


What Comes After

by therapychicken



Series: Chatting Up And What Comes After [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (omg that's already its own tag), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Baby Gay Patrick, Banter, Flirting, In which Patrick stumbles into David a few years early, M/M, patrick pov, self-sabotaging David
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therapychicken/pseuds/therapychicken
Summary: Patrick has just had the most dizzying night of his life- and it had only really lasted like 45 minutes. Fortunately, the last 20 of them had been taken up by the most amazing man Patrick had ever met.Now Patrick's driving home, and he's dying to know what comes next.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Chatting Up And What Comes After [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560142
Comments: 30
Kudos: 150





	What Comes After

**Author's Note:**

> Welp! So I wrote the first part of this... almost a year ago, yikes, then about six months ago turned it into a series because I was pretty sure I had an idea of what happened next, then I wrote half of it, completely lost the thread of my idea, and then had a shower epiphany yesterday and immediately wrote the rest. So, voila. I do plan on doing more, hopefully sooner than next year.
> 
> Definitely read the previous story first, but just to back up, this takes place a few years pre-canon- Patrick is presumably on one of his Rachel breaks and he ventures into a gay bar in Toronto for the first time, where he meets David under... less than ideal circumstances. Patrick is basically the same Patrick we know and love; David is... pre-canon David. But he's always been a Good Person.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave a comment with your thoughts and wear a mask and save lives!

As Patrick turned over the engine of his car, slid his phone into the holder on the dashboard, and began to pull out of his spot, he realized, with complete clarity:

He hadn’t felt this good in  _ years.  _

Actually, Patrick hadn’t felt like this before, ever. He’d been happy before, gleeful even, but the nature of this happiness, the buzz he was feeling in his chest that was spreading out til it felt like his very toes were alight, was brand new. 

Well, he’d figured something out tonight, that was for sure. 

Patrick had noticed David when he’d walked into the bar, he’d seen he was hot, but he was one of a dizzying array of people and things that were  _ new _ , that were, well,  _ gay _ , and Patrick hadn’t really thought much about one hot guy, except to note another tick in the  _ definitely very homosexual  _ side of his mental list. But if Patrick was being honest, there were plenty of other good-looking guys in the bar that night. If he was being  _ brutally  _ honest, Sebastien had seemed pretty damn attractive in a general sort of way until he’d loomed his way over Patrick and made him feel lost and filthy. 

But then David had actually walked over and spoken to him- well, spoken to Sebastien, but still- and all of Patrick’s nerve endings had been on fire. Something in the animal part of his brain had screamed out  _ this! This is the reason why you came here, this is the reason why you  _ are _ , period, this is the thing you’ve been missing.  _ David had paced his way over like a fucking panther, in that leather jacket and the tight black jeans, his face- well, feral, there was no other way to describe it, and Patrick had been riveted. 

The entire rest of Patrick, though, was very good at shutting his animal brain down; it was well practiced at it. What did it mean that the man was hot? Patrick had been in locker rooms with plenty of hot guys and it hadn’t meant a thing. (Which was something that Patrick needed to explore, actually.) Why should he be having such a reaction to someone who prowled like a predator in a jungle, who was in the middle of what’s essentially a mating dance with one of the sleaziest people who Patrick has ever met? 

But then the man- David, as the conversation had revealed- had turned around for a brief second and looked back at him, just before he nibbled Sebastien’s ear in a way that Patrick simultaneously found hot and disgusting. David had looked back at him with a look in his eyes that Patrick hadn’t seen there before- open and concerned. Like he was looking at Patrick because he was worried about him, and wasn’t that the weirdest thing so far on this very brief yet very weird night, that after the perfectly manicured stubble and the smooth saunter across the room in that fucking jacket, it was that look in David’s eyes that had suddenly gotten Patrick dizzy. 

Patrick had meant to walk away, leave the club and give the whole thing up as a lost cause, but it had been that look that had cemented him in his spot, told him that he had to stay and find out what the fuck was with this scorchingly hot feral man with  _ caring  _ in his eyes. 

And then he’d come back twenty minutes looking vaguely tousled in a way that made Patrick’s heart race, and Patrick had gone over and  _ yelled  _ at him. Maybe not his finest moment. But then they’d talked, and it turned out that the real David was the caring one, not the feral one, and he’d done  _ that  _ just so that Patrick wouldn’t make a big mistake, and that was somehow six times as attractive as anything else that had happened that night. And this real, caring, embarrassed, funny heartbreaker of a man had let Patrick buy him a drink with an expression of confusion, like it didn’t happen often, which Patrick found astounding to contemplate. The whole world should be lining up to buy this man drinks. 

This man who, apparently, had been thinking of chatting Patrick up. Back in the beginning, before Sebastien, right when Patrick had walked into the club. This was the part of the evening that Patrick, mindlessly merging his car onto the highway, found the most unbelievable- that David had been planning to talk to  _ him.  _ He’d told Patrick so, looking embarrassed and faintly blushing, and had taken Patrick’s card. 

If there was one thing Patrick regretted about this evening, one thing, it was not getting David’s number himself. 

And then, as if God was up there waiting for Patrick to get up to a certain point in his inner monologue, Patrick’s phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, with an area code that Patrick recognized from innumerable TV shows and movies meant a New York number. It could have been anyone- a telemarketer, a misdial, some old acquaintance from college butt dialing. But Patrick knew- he just knew-

He swiped his phone and immediately a voice that seemed familiar, not new at all, rang out. “I cannot  _ believe _ you did such a good job erasing your name, Blue Man Group Reject. Like, you crossed out your email address, and you crossed it out on  _ both sides of the card  _ like an actual psycho. Like you thought I was going to flip it over and try to read it that way.”

Patrick honestly did not know if he had ever smiled bigger than he was smiling at that moment. It felt like he was stretching muscles he hadn’t known he possessed.  _ Blue Man Group Reject?  _ It was like a blatant message:  _ you’ve been on my mind _ . It was dizzying. “It sounds like it didn’t work when you tried?” he smirked. “Also, I’ll have you know that the Blue Man Group was very kind, they said that my classical good looks were too striking to cover up with face paint.”

“Hmph,” came the sound from the other end of the line and Patrick’s heart zinged. He’d  _ never  _ flirted this openly before, never. He’d never felt the urge before, never had the words- now it was like a compulsion. 

“So it sounds like you’re very motivated to find out my name,” he said casually. Something inside him kept telling him to go-go-go, you’re doing it right. Well he must be, David had called  _ him  _ and hadn’t hung up yet. “I hope you didn’t strain your eyes too hard trying to read under the ink.” 

“Excuse me, but you know as well as I can that I could totally google you. I mean, whatever hick town you work for has got to have a website. Or reverse white pages search on your number. Or my sister has this friend- and when I say friend I mean dealer-” 

Well, that was kind of alarming, but- “And yet you called me,” Patrick broke in. He felt calm, because, in fact, David had called him. That must mean- that must mean something. 

There was a silence. “And yet I called you,” the voice from the other end agreed, and Patrick could totally have been driving past his exit right fucking then and he’d never have known it, his heart had stopped and his body was on autopilot mode. 

David wasn’t saying anything, and Patrick didn’t know if he was supposed to say something, maybe, whether David was waiting for him to pick up on some invisible cue. He felt like maybe he was hearing a breath from the other end of the line and didn’t know what that meant, but then suddenly Patrick was gushing out with “are you doing anything tomorrow night” just as he could hear David saying something on the other end. 

They both said “sorry!” at the same time, and laughed, Patrick anxiously. “You go,” he urged.

“Well, I was going to ask about Sunday, but if you’re up for tomorrow I won’t say no,” David said, and he sounded like he was smiling. It gave Patrick a bit of a thrill to feel like he knew what David sounded like when he was smiling. “You’re all ready to go, I see.”

“Well, I’m motivated,” Patrick said, heart in his throat, and David laughed. 

“Okay,” he replied, “so the club again? Is that what you were thinking?”

And that was weird, because Patrick  _ hadn’t  _ been thinking the club, he’d been thinking a date with someone he liked, so dinner or something like that, maybe an evening walk… but maybe this was how men dated other men. At clubs. “Um, sure,” he said, trying to mask his uncertainty. “That sounds fun.”

“Great.” There was what felt like a tiny change in David’s voice, practically imperceptible but as Patrick had been basically solely attuned to David’s voice for the last five minutes he was  _ sure  _ it was there. “Having someone there with you, feeling comfortable, is a totally different experience, trust me. We’ll have fun. You’ll be able to dance this time, you’ll get to meet people, better people than Sebastien… you just had a bad run your first time, that was all.”

Wait a minute. Patrick shook his head as if compelled- this wasn’t right at all. What had just happened? This had been going so well… did David not think this was meant to be a date? Did he not want it to be a date?

His heart was in his throat again for a totally different reason now, and he felt like he might choke as he said, as baldly as he could, “David. I don’t want to meet people.” 

There was a silence, and an “okay” from the other end of the line that had a strange vibration in it. 

“I don’t want to meet people, I want to get to know someone who I already met,” he said, steady. There was more silence from the other end of the line, a bit of static in the background that may have been breathing. “I was trying to ask you on a date- will you go on a date with me?”

As he was saying it, Patrick could feel his heart sink. Of course David hadn’t meant a date. He was gorgeous and he could probably get anyone he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He’d probably just wanted to take Patrick the Baby Gay out to the club, show him a good time, maybe take him out back to the unisex restroom and hook up, like he had with Sebastien. The blood rushed through Patrick’s head as he pictured this, and it’s not exactly like he’d turn it down if it was offered to him, but- 

But Patrick knew that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted a date. He wanted to wine and dine and, let’s face it,  _ woo  _ David. But maybe David wasn’t interested in being wooed.

After a quiet that lasted far too long, David said, “you want to go on a date with  _ me _ ?” Patrick could hear the doubt in his voice. 

“Look, I know you can have anyone you want,” Patrick answered desperately, “you’re gorgeous and funny and kind and you looked absolutely  _ amazing  _ in that jacket and- but I just, you don’t have to but I’d love to-”

“Yes, yes of course,” David broke in, all in a rush. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

Patrick froze. This was a different David, the one closer to the one he’d been teasing at the bar, the one who’d told him hesitantly yet eagerly that he’d been intending to chat Patrick up. This was the one he’d wanted to hear. He could feel his smile growing slowly. “So, not at the club then?”

“Not at the club. Have you been to Veronica’s? It’s this tapas place in Kensington Market- they have an all you can eat special Saturday nights, with these stuffed olives that are just to die for…”

David trailed off, and Patrick smiled (his stomach grumbling at the thought of stuffed olives- he’d forgotten to eat dinner and that sounded pretty damn amazing right now) and said, “yeah, that sounds great. Text me the address?” 

“Okay.” And that was  _ definitely  _ a smile in David’s voice, definitely. “You know,” he continued, “it would be a lot easier to text you if I had a name to put in my contacts…”

Patrick couldn’t help it, he laughed, and he could feel the smugness radiating from the other end of the line. “Don’t tell me you don’t already have me saved as… Sonic the Hedgehog or something. You’ll find out my name when you chat me up.”

“Oh, fine,” David said huffily, and Patrick just grinned, noticing as he did that he’d driven three miles past his exit and never noticed.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
